Phoenix Rising
by Ciderbreak1
Summary: Post AJBAC: Max finds her way back home... eventually
1. Default Chapter

Resurrection

Resurrection

Part One

DISCLAIMER: FOX owns all Dark Angel characters. No infringement implied.

"Good morning." Agent Renfro smiled politely at the assembled group of X5's in the briefing room. They sat straight in their chairs, palms carefully placed on the desks in front of them as they had been trained to do since birth. She was greeted with perfunctory good mornings and expectant faces, but no one moved a muscle. "Today is an important day. Today heralds the first time Manticore products will be used in conjunction with the public sector. Officially, anyway. Notes."

The X5's simultaneously blinked once, indicating that their brains had gone into information-gathering mode. Taking physical notes was archaic when they could remember any piece of verbal information given, no matter how long or complex. Renfro clasped her hands behind her back and continued, pacing the floor in her crisp navy suit.

"The military state of Seattle is unable to control the uprising of the residents of Sectors three and two. The residents have blocked off these two sectors with barricades and any attempt to breach the barricades has resulted in civilian as well as police casualties. The United States government, of which Manticore is a subsidiary, has requested our involvement in this highly difficult matter of state."

Renfro paused to see if there was any emotion on the faces of the soldiers before her, but no one revealed any personal feelings. She felt a momentary surge of pride towards Donald Lydecker, God rest his traitorous soul. He had trained his kids with impeccable skills and honing those skills had been the joy of her life the past year and a half as Manticore slowly rebuilt itself from the ashes. The Committee was calling the X5's "the phoenix division" due to their unparalleled successes in the private sector. Where the X7's failed due to lack of imagination, the X5's soared and triumphed over every obstacle. They were making her look very, very good.

"Though Manticore has seen a reduction in resources and funding, I'm sure you are all well aware of the reputation of your division. That is why, despite the failure of Manticore to redevelop a full genetics lab, you have been given this assignment. Agent Hunter will brief you on the specifics of the mission. Your main objective is to permanently quell the uprising and obliterate the existing barricades to allow the military presence to regain control of the area and provide food and medical assistance to the refugees who are currently starving under siege. Agent Hunter."

"Thank you, Director. As you are aware…."

Beyond her mask of complacency, Max panicked. _Return to Seattle?_ she thought. Wyoming seemed a long, safe way from her former home. The Space Needle loomed in her memory, a dark, crumbling tower of forgotten hopes and dissipated dreams. She remembered the faint smell of burning rubber and the wetness of permanent rain on her face. She could almost hear the wind and nearly closed her eyes to go back in her memory, but didn't dare to do so under Renfro's watchful eye. Only in the dormitory, after lights out, would she let former memories out of their locked cages to dance across her brain in a parade that made her heart ache with longing. _Oh, Logan_.

"…X5890 will be the commanding officer for this mission. All soldiers who fail to report to X5890 at the rendezvous point will of course be traced by the homing beacons in your dog tags and returned to Manticore by military escort. Please do not remove your dogs tags as this will be the only way to reach you should you fall prey to the enemy or are injured in any way that prevents your mobility. We expect perfection on this mission, which includes no casualties of any kind. Be aware, however, that sectors two and three are tantamount to an entire army and they have fierce motives to protect what they believe to be their freedom. You will be challenged."

X5890 allowed himself a small smile and raised his hand for permission to speak, which was immediately granted.

"Sir. I speak for the division when I say that we shall all return victorious. Sir."

"Your confidence is inspiring," Renfro said with only the slightest hint of patronizing tone in her voice. "Dismissed."

"Fall out," Agent Hunter commanded, and the X5's stood up as one, turned on their heel as one, and marched out of the room back to the barracks. 

The barracks hadn't changed much in twenty years. The windows were high and fitted with steel bars and bulletproof glass. Ten beds lined one side of the room and ten mirror-imaged it, with green-flecked linoleum lending a sickly feel to the cheerless room. Each bed was made up with white sheets and a green wool blanket, standard army issue. Each X5 kept a trunk at the end of the bed for personal effects and clothing and had one locker at the foot of the room for extra gear and special ops outfits. Males and females still bunked in together, but there was never even the slightest hint of romantic attachments forming between them. They still referred to each other by number, but were well aware that they were a team of siblings, of friends, of soldiers and any normal sexual urges were confined to discreet dalliances with the staff or guards. 

Max checked her watch. She had ten minutes before she had to report to the new, still-under-construction DNA lab for genetics practice. She sensed Brin—X5736, now—watching her intently out of the corner of her eye and purposefully went to the blue mat on the floor and began a fast set of push-ups on her knuckles. 

"Now we'll see where your true loyalty lies," Brin said quietly as she passed. Max jumped to her feet, swept Brin's legs out from under her and had her pinned to the mat in half a second, her hand closed over the other girl's throat. She jammed her combat boots over Brin's ankles and held her in place, threatening to break her ankles if she moved. 

"Do you challenge me, X5736?!" Max nearly shouted, allowing anger to seep into her dark eyes. The other X5's warily approached the mat, sensing the tension and not knowing whether to join in or dissolve a potential conflict within the ranks.

"What's going on?" X5890 demanded. _Perry_, Max's mind corrected her. _He's Perry, not a barcode, and he never escaped this hellhole we call home._

"X5736 questions my loyalty to Manticore and to this mission," Max said bitterly. "She insinuates that my reprogramming is not complete and that I will abandon my division. Permission to beat X5736 to a bloody pulp?"

"Not. Given." Perry swatted Max on the ass, which surprised her and when she speared him with a dirty look, Brin claimed the advantage and flipped her over on the mat, effectively switching their positions. Max grunted and winced at the pressure on her ankles. Brin only kept the hold for a moment, just to prove she could, then jumped to her feet and stepped off the mat, signifying she was no longer challenging Max to a fight.

"X5452 is under no suspicion from anyone in this division nor anyone at Manticore. She has proved herself worthy and a true member of this team countless times and any further insinuations like the one just made will be severely punished, do I make myself clear?" Perry told Brin in a cold voice.

"Yes."

"Good." Perry backed off and ran a hand through his dark hair, causing it to spike up in the back. Max was instantly reminded of Logan and swallowed another lump in her throat. She couldn't go back to Seattle. Not now, not after everything she'd done. "Now, let's go over the details Agent Hunter obviously left out. Is anyone currently experiencing bouts of seizures? About to enter a mating cycle? Still suffering from that nasty flu the X7's were spreading around last week?"

The nineteen member division of X5's was mostly intact, except for two members on the tail end of the flu. Max hid a small stab of guilt, as she was the one who engineered the flu for the X7's as part of her secret experiment in the lab.

"Don't overextend yourselves during afternoon assignments," Perry warned. "We leave at 0400 hours and I want us all at our best."

Max forced herself to approach Brin and shake hands, assuring the other girl that she was truly back in the fold, for good, forever. Brin relaxed and they shared a quiet but peaceful walk to the lab, where Max entered for genetics practice and Brin hurried along the corridor for archery practice.

"You look tense," Victor noted when Max yanked on a white coat and jammed her fingers into the pockets. She gave her friend a withering look and plunked down at her desk with a defeated sigh.

"We finally got assigned to Seattle," Max said, and sighed again. 

"You've been ready for months," Victor placated her. "Everything is all set to go. I'm surprised you haven't pulled strings to get back to Washington yourself." He pushed his glasses further up on his nose and jerked his head towards the steel operating table in the center of the room. "Does Renfro know about your progress?"

"She knows exactly what I show her during the weekly briefing, which is simply the first prototype. She's actually pleased with what I've "accomplished," which means that I think I'm back in the witch's good graces. She has no idea what's really going on and I don't think she really wants to see anything she doesn't want to see. If that makes any sense at all."

"They really clipped her wings, eh?" Victor said smugly. He pulled a chair up next to Max and waved a hand in front of her dejected face. "Max. Max, you in there?"

"Somewhere, deep down," she answered flatly. "I think."

Victor scoffed and swiveled the seat of her chair to face the computer. 

"If I can go from guard to lab tech, you can go from soldier to traitor easy. I got your back."

"But who has yours?" Max murmured. "They'll find out, Vic, I know it. And then you'll be dead and I don't think I can have any more blood on my hands."

"Yeah, like I'm gonna stick around and wait for the inquisition? After this mission is over I'll be in Mexico with Jace and my baby girl and you'll be in the arms of what's-his-face. So chin up. What could possibly go wrong?"

"Besides everything?"

"I'm not even trying to hear that," Victor said indignantly. He sounded so much like Original Cindy that Max felt tears spring to her eyes for the first time in over a year. She blinked them back with considerable effort and brought her fingers to the keyboard, carefully bypassing Manticore's server to get onto the open web. Victor moved away to work on the volumes of data her experiments produced and Max cautiously found her way to the tiny loophole in the system that allowed her a no-holds-barred, secure-for-sure connection to the internet. She'd stumbled across the hole early on but had never dared to use it. It was just as well, since they tracked her every move 24-7 for the first six months of reprogramming, until she passed all the tests with flying colors and was no longer considered a threat to the system. Now here she was, sneaking around cyberspace like a professional hacker, about to send out the first lifeline back to the old world. The world with friends and color and laughter. The world with music and candlelight and fast motorcycles. A world with Logan Cale in it.

*****

Logan Cale perfunctorily checked the informant net before going to bed. Eyes Only's cable hacks were few and far between these days, but he still kept a hand in. With tired eyes he surfed through the obvious hoaxes, filed interesting leads and checked the secure email account for new messages. One message caught his eye and made every hair on his body stand straight up. The subject line read "Sibelius" and the content nearly made his heart stop.

"Logan. Sector wars. Wear Kevlar to work this week. Love, Max." 


	2. 2

Phoenix Rising

Phoenix Rising

Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: FOX owns all Dark Angel characters. No infringement implied.

"Nuh-uh," Original Cindy grunted in disbelief. 

Logan slowly nodded and pushed the scrap of paper towards her. She pulled it closer with one long nail, her eyes scanning the email printout several times before looking up at him in disbelief. Logan twisted his back to ease the cramping there and ran a hand through his spiky hair as Cindy read the short message again.

"Who's this Sibelius brotha? Zat you?"

"Classical composer," Logan said. "I played Max a song once, in the car… we might have danced to it. Anyway, it's something only she would know."

"Fine, fine. Kevlar, that some sort of bent rich-boy straightjacket?"

"It's a type of bulletproof vest."

"Damn. That's really from Max."

"I know."

They sat in silence for several long minutes as the cordial mayhem of Crash surrounded their table and unsuccessfully tried to draw them in. Cindy forgot about her beer entirely and Logan didn't even think twice about the guy doing bike stunts right behind their table. 

"I promised I'd tell you when I heard anything," Logan reminded Cindy gently, taking the much-folded piece of paper back. "This came last night."

"Yeah, but what does it mean? Besides the fact our girl is alive, that is. She could be setting a fool up for a trap, aiming to bring acid rain down on your pretty little head, you ever think about that?"

"Cindy," Logan began, in his most patient voice. He'd had a whole day to brood over the message, she'd only had about a minute. 

"Nothing. We hear zilch for a year and a half, and then she sends you an email? I don't trust it no way. She's evil and playin' you."

"Cindy, have you ever known Max to give up on something? Ever seen her break? I think she's been inside Manticore this whole time, playing their games, just waiting for a chance to break out and come back to us. She mentioned the sector wars—I know for a fact that the government has hired an outside task force to come in and force the peace. I bet they hired Manticore soldiers and Max is coming with them and wanted to warn us somehow." Logan failed to keep the excitement out of his voice and calmly ducked as a clod of dirt flew over his head.

"Or she's been reprogrammed by the freak squad and is coming to put you in the ground," Cindy argued, her voice bordering on hysterical. "Original Cindy is not gonna stick around and watch you get more of your body shot up because you got your head in the clouds." 

"Max loved you," Logan pointed out softly. "You were her best friend, you counted as family. She got captured, Cindy, she didn't run away. If she's alive, it's a miracle and I know for a fact that Max would never take advantage of a miracle by giving into those butchers at Manticore."

"Too good to be true," Cindy said in a near-whisper. She jumped a little when the crowd behind her cheered, and Logan pushed away from the table, indicating they should leave and go somewhere quieter. She followed his wheelchair outside and took a deep breath of fresh air. Well, polluted air, but at least it wasn't the stale beer and bike grease smell. She adjusted her purple miniskirt and slipped her arms into her jacket, glad she'd brought it along to ward off the chill. Logan wheeled over to the crappy excuse for a sidewalk and headed towards his car, talking as Cindy walked beside him.

"I still hope," he confessed. "I know you do too."

"Nuh-uh, Original Cindy don't waste no time on things that could get her dead or maimed or tricked up with some freak experiment somewhere. You got the wrong spice girl, boo."

"Liar," Logan grinned, spinning his chair around, stopping her in her tracks. "I saw your face when you read that email. You wanted it to be true as much as I did."

"How can we trust her?" Cindy reasoned. "What if it's a double-cross? Makin' us think she's back in the family fold, when the real is that she's gonna drop a dime on the both of us and we get dead. Or worse."

"How can we not trust her?" Logan countered. "What's the worst that could happen, we die?"

"Or worse."

"Or worse. In my scenario we cling to hope and trust the Max we knew and love, and everything works out."

"Mmhmm," Cindy said skeptically, crossing her arms.

"If it's really her, and we turn our backs and something happens to her… I'd wanna die," Logan said bleakly. "I've got to see this through. I just wanted to give you the chance to be in on it."

"Gotta dwell. Original Cindy will give you a call tomorrow."

"Look forward to hearing from you," Logan said, and handed her the folded piece of paper. "Keep this. I can print out another."

Cindy reluctantly took the folded piece of paper and shoved it into her jacket pocket without looking at it. She nodded to Logan, unable to keep the pain out of her eyes. She didn't have enough attitude to cover the desolation of the past year and a half, not knowing if Max was back in that prison or if she was rotting in a ditch somewhere. Logan wisely stayed silent, letting her leave without further challenge. While she battled her heart and weighed the evidence, he could be productive on the informant net. The sector wars were heating up, everyone knew that, but Logan needed to figure out exactly what Manticore was being sent in to accomplish, and why Max thought he'd need a bullet proof vest to survive out the week.

*****

__

Two days later

Perry looked over his command, satisfied that they had already accomplished the breach of the first barricade, which was now being dismantled by the sector police. The rotting wood and burned out hulks of automobiles were being wrenched apart even as they sat in their small command center and waited for the next order from headquarters. The 19-member unit had suffered no casualties, not even so much as a scraped knee or a black eye. They had simply shot their way in, decimating the paltry defenses and allowing the sector police access into the area. If anything, the troops were a little disappointed it had been so easy to break down the barricade. They'd expected more of a protest, had been briefed on mob control and the best way to handle teeming crowds of protesters. However, the crowd of people that were defending the barricades fought weakly, most of them no more than children. They were hardly a threat for the sector police, which made Perry question the true motive for the mission. Agent Hunter had said that the sector police was unwilling to use brute force to get into the area, but once the barricade was down they had no problem running in and forcing the residents into submission. There had to be another reason that the X5 team was sent in first. There had to be another reason the police were unwilling to break in. Something was missing from the plot.

"Listen up," Perry said, and his team gathered around. They were still in camo dress, weapons at the ready. "I think there's something Agent Hunter left out of the briefing."

"Like why it was cake to get into the area?" This from Brin, who hadn't even broken a sweat during the assignment. He nodded.

"Maybe the residents were weakened by the siege," someone offered. "Maybe they gave up."

"You don't construct a forty foot wall around two whole sectors and then give it up without trying to defend it," Perry mused. "I think the real threat we face is where we are now, inside the sector. We need to find out why they would want the sector police, or a special ops team like us, inside their walls."

"What are you thinking?" asked Max. 

"Don't know yet. I don't know what they'd be hiding. It doesn't make any sense. I mean, do you hear that? They're destroying the barricades and trucking in food and medical supplies, retaking control of sector three, at least. Where is this supposed army of irate citizens? Sleeping?"

"We should do recon," Brin suggested. "If Manticore is not forthcoming with intel then we should seek out what we need to survive and conquer."

Perry thought that over. It certainly wouldn't go over very well with Director Renfro, but it was something Colonel Lydecker would have expected from them immediately. Maybe Manticore wasn't hiding anything. Still, they had to be completely sure, free from doubts before they moved any further into enemy territory.

"Right. We'll split up and meet back here in two hours. Find out anything you can about what's really going on in here, but keep a low profile. I don't want a war of politics on top of everything else. Move out."

Max moved out with the others, unable to believe her incredible luck. It was luck tinged with regret, because Perry was absolutely right about their being something fishy about the mission. But still, she was alone, free and in Seattle for the first time since her capture. Brin would probably track her instead of trying to find out any true intelligence, and yet…

Max filched an oversized black coat from someone's clothes pole and wrapped it around herself. The sleeves hung past her fingertips and it trailed on the ground, but at least no one would take one look at her uniform and know she played for the wrong team. Sector Three was where she'd seen Jace off to Mexico, right at the end of South Market where the busses left. It was where Zack and Logan had rescued her the time she got trapped by that stupid poster. And it was where Director Renfro completely screwed up Lydecker's promise to Tinga, which eventually resulted in her horrible death. The memories rushed back, unimpeded by the need to keep her face stoic. Now she could grieve, now she could scream and wail about life being unfair and how she got screwed out of her freedom. Instead, she squeezed back tears and ducked into a small coffee kiosk just outside the gate, her eyes going immediately to the television. She hadn't watched TV in over a year. She hadn't smelled coffee either, Manticore frowning on any sort of drug going into X5's, even something as innocent as caffeine.

"Coffee?" the man behind the counter asked politely, reaching for a used styrofoam cup. 

Max nodded and tried not to blanch as he wiped out the cup with a soggy rag. She reached into her utility belt for emergency currency, deciding that real coffee was worth the expenditure. If she played the part, maybe she could get this guy to start talking. She handed over the ten dollar bill and wrapped her gloved hands around the cup, inhaling the rich aroma. The man chuckled, watching her savor the smell.

"Been savin' up for this, eh?" he guessed.

"Every week for a month," Max lied. "We all got our vices, y'know?"

"Well, enjoy."

"Oh, yeah," Max whispered, taking the first sip of the piping hot, bitter coffee. It burned the tip of her tongue and she laughed, setting it down on the counter. "Hot."

"It's the only way to serve joe, even under siege," the guy joked, scrubbing at a stubborn spot on the counter Max recognized as a bloodstain. "How you doin', you hangin' in there? Not gettin' screwed out of your rations by those brutes in South Market, are ya?"

"No sir," Max replied, aware that in the big coat she probably looked younger than she really was. "My big brother takes care of me."

That much was true, Max reflected sadly, thinking again of Zack and the sacrifice he made to keep her alive. She'd obeyed his last command: she fought them. Fought them when they strapped her down and redesigned her genetics, fought them during the whole arduous process of reprogramming, fought them when they retrained her in combat, fought them every time they beat her, humiliated her, tried to break her. In the end, she had to summon up the highest amount of courage she could to _fake_ being back in the fold. No one suspected her except Brin, and even she was wearing down. After all, hadn't Max recently gunned down two criminals trying to steal one of Manticore's Range Rovers? The old Max wouldn't touch a gun if you paid her in genuine gold bars. 

"I got a kid," the guy said conspiratorially, palming a picture of a cute little girl in pigtails to show Max. "That's Kari. They haven't taken her yet."

"Maybe they never will," Max said comfortingly, her mind whirling with possibilities. "Barricade's coming down."

"Yeah, like the sector police will be able to beat the brutes. Nah, I'm thinkin' of gettin' out tonight or tomorrow, after dark. It'll be crazy, police trying to figure out who's sick and who's wounded and why everyone's got those freak lesions. You should think about gettin' out too, while it's still chaos."

"Slave to the known," Max shrugged, forcing defeat into her eyes. "We'll be okay."

"Honey, no one's gonna be okay if they get into South Market. I mean, it's one thing for us to go in and get our rations, but if those idiots start shootin' and pointin' fingers, there'll be blood in the streets."

Max slowly sipped from the coffee, which had cooled enough to enjoy. Black, bitter, hot, divine.

"I'm too hungry to care," she said bitterly, sharing a look of empathy with the guy. 

"Yeah, let 'em rot."

Just then, the television flickered and the blue and red stripes took over the screen. Max's hands actually shook around the styrofoam cup, causing a little of the precious liquid to slosh over the side onto her glove. The guy didn't notice her, his eyes riveted to the screen. 

"Wish our superman would get off the screen and get down in the trenches, y'know?" he said, but there was little anger in his voice. He quieted down and they watched the cable hack together.

"This is an Eyes Only cable hack. It will last exactly sixty seconds. It cannot be traced, it cannot be compromised, and it is the only free voice left in this city. This morning, under the cover of darkness, the Sector Police finally managed to break down the barricade separating Sectors two and three from the rest of the city. Their objective was to bring food and water to the citizens that have trapped themselves inside. What the chief of police, Kenneth Trager, does not want you to know is that the water is laced with a narcotic that will kill anyone who drinks it. It is his solution to end the spread of disease in that area, disease spread by the rats he secretly unleashed on the city last March as an attempt to curb population growth. Trager worked in conjunction with this man, Jorge Teluda, who recently confessed to manufacturing the narcotic and is currently in police custody. Eyes Only is calling all citizens to boycott any water sources sealed in Seattle and to mobilize uncompromised food and water for our neighbors in sectors two and three. This is Eyes Only. Peace. Out."

"Guess he doesn't know how else they've been killin' off the sick folks," the guy scoffed. "Hey, girlie, don't look so scared. That coffee wasn't made with any of their water."

"No, yeah, it's fine. I know. Just…" Max's voice broke and she dropped her head, sobbing quietly. Tears dripped off her cheeks and plopped into the coffee she still held in her hands. Logan was alive. Alive, well, and apparently still performing cable hacks. His voice echoed in her head. Every word he'd just said was the intel Perry had been looking for, but to her it was far more. It was a lifeline, something to live for. She never forgot his voice, recalling it in her mind every night, turning it over and over like a precious jewel, but hearing it for real just undid her defenses. Her body actually ached for him. 

"I know, it's hard. I know." The coffee guy awkwardly patted Max's head until she regained control and wiped her face with her sleeve. 

"Sorry. Eyes Only is never wrong, but I'm sick of the sector police screwing us over to protect their own asses. Like we're nothing but river scum."

"Sucks," the guy agreed. 

Max finished her coffee and handed back the cup. 

"Thanks. Sorry I blubbered all over you. Hormones or something."

"I got a wife, I'm used to it. You take care, okay? Don't drink the water!"

"Ha ha," Max said, and slipped off the stool. 

When she was out of sight, she climbed up the side of a building and snuck into South Market through the broken ceiling of what used to be an airplane hangar, almost choking at the stench of rotting vegetables and the unmistakable scent of human flesh------

Burning.


	3. 3

Phoenix Rising 

Phoenix Rising 

Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: FOX owns all Dark Angel characters. No infringement implied.

"Hey."

Logan looked up from his computer and smiled at Original Cindy, who stood in the doorway, ready to bolt if he said the wrong thing. She wore a black shirt and low-riding jeans, boots and carried a backpack. 

"Hey, yourself."

"So. I need one of those Kevlar things, too?"

Logan wheeled over to her and wished, not for the millionth time, that he could just stand up and hug someone. Cindy just folded her arms and gave him a small grin. It was enough to give him hope, though. She wouldn't have come over if she wasn't serious about helping. Between the two of them, Bling, the informant net and a few hundred miracles, they'd have Max back in no time. He hoped.

"Come on in," Logan said, going into business mode. Cindy followed him into the computer room, and he watched out of the corner of his eye as she took in all of the equipment, including the video camera he'd used half an hour ago to broadcast the latest Eyes Only message.

"You're Eyes Only," she said accusingly. "Shoulda known."

"Yeah." Logan waited for her to rip him a new one for not telling her, but she took it in stride, rolling her eyes and packing away the rest of her fear.

"'Course my boo had to pick a superhero for her suggah. Makes sense, in a deathwish sort of way."

"I resent that," Logan said, smiling. "Okay, here's what we know. At dawn this morning…"

"I saw your report," Cindy interrupted. "What else you got?"

"The sector police hired a government group to help with the invasion over the barricade this morning. Nineteen special ops soldiers initiated the attack and are now inside the Sector, keeping order."

"Manticore?"

"Exactly."

"So, Max is in there with all the sickos?"

"Pretty much."

"Hope she doesn't drink the water," Cindy tried to joke.

"Not funny. Trager's a monster. It's not enough that he is trying to murder innocent citizens and make it look like the flu. I think it's been going on longer than we knew about, and having worse side effects than originally projected. Why else would they barricade themselves in?"

"Thought it was in protest to unfair rationing, military command, some sort of twisted "we demand our rights" sort of dealio."

"No. When word of Trager's little lab experiment started leaking out, they moved in and forced the residents to barricade themselves in. Trager thought that could contain the disease; it's not airborne, it's passed by rats."

"Every building in the city has rats."

"Every building in the city does not have rats genetically engineered to live for one week, transmit disease, and then die."

Logan watched the news register on Original Cindy's face. She mouthed "Manticore" and he nodded.

"We successfully detonated the human genetics lab last year, but Manticore has small genetics labs in operation all over the US, all working for the government…"

"All evil."

"Not necessarily, and that's the bitch. Cure for cancer? Manticore. End of alcoholism? Manticore."

"Yeah, and how many human lab rats—no pun intended—did they use for that? Forget it. I don't wanna know," Cindy said as Logan reached for the answer to her question in one of his filing cabinets. "Just tell me what Max is up against and how we're gonna get her out. And once we get her out, how are we gonna keep those black helicopter guys from tracking her down?"

*****

From her perch near the top of the ceiling, Max spotted Brin across the way. Brin nodded once and gestured down to the far corner of South Market. Max looked down, her pupils dilating and focusing easily into the unlit area. There was a line of people, all ages and races, some sitting, some standing, all silent and covered with bleeding sores. One by one, they climbed up a makeshift stepladder and climbed into an incinerator. Some of them couldn't walk and were carried in by guards covered in sterile suits from head to toe. Max watched the flash of fire and waited for the screaming, but the operation was completely silent. She looked backup at Brin, who stuck her tongue out and pantomimed cutting. 

Max almost vomited.

She climbed back down and caught up with Brin on their way back to their makeshift headquarters. Brin's eyes held no trace of suspicion, no accusing "you're not one of us" looks. She was just as horrified as Max was. They hurried, almost running, desperate to be away from that atrocity and back with their siblings. By the time they reached the building, they were both running hard.

"You being followed?" Perry asked as he ushered them inside and shut the door.

"No, no, just…" Brin panted.

"Burning people in South Market," Max blurted out. 

Perry looked shocked, his blue eyes widening. He shook his head and made Max repeat herself.

"Covered with sores," Brin added. "Like the only way to stop whatever it is they got is to burn the bodies. Alive."

"They didn't _all _look alive," Max said. Losing her "stand and deliver" stance, she ran to the corner and threw up. It was mostly coffee, which reminded her of the kiosk and the guy behind the counter. He'd mentioned that his daughter was safe, that "they hadn't gotten to her" or something. What hadn't gotten to her, the incinerator guys? The "brutes" in South Market? Or something else entirely? Gentle hands pulled her hair up, rubbed her back in small circles, handed her a cloth to wipe her mouth. Max stood up slowly and was surprised to see that Perry, not Brin, was the comforting one. He backed away, as if ashamed of giving into her weakness by coddling her, and looked around.

Their headquarters was nothing more than a dilapidated warehouse, empty of all supplies save one Range Rover which held their gear. The other vehicles waited outside, blending in with the sector police's trucks and vans. The roof leaked, there were plenty of holes in the walls, and a rat scurried across a dank corner of the room.

"Too many questions," Perry said in a frustrated voice. "I don't like it. I think we should retreat."

They waited for the rest of the division to return and report, but the news was much the same. Sick people everywhere, buildings covered with rodents and vermin, food rations dangerously low and contaminated. They argued all afternoon, until Perry made a secure phone call to Director Renfro for new orders and came back to the group with a grim face.

"We're going to have to burn both sectors to the ground," he reported, his voice devoid of the usual gleeful determination. He sat down hard in a chair and put his head in his hands, a posture they'd never seen their C.O. take before. Max stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, pleased to see him acting like a human for a change, instead of a mindless soldier. She respected him for his skills; he reminded her of Zack, in many ways. He'd die for anyone in the group, would go to any length to protect them and complete the mission. Yet Perry knew nothing of the outside world, knew nothing of what it was to love, to hurt, to laugh, to fear. He'd expected to go in, raise a little hell, then leave and go back to Manticore. 

Perry covered Max's hand with his, taking strength from her nearness before raising his head to address the group.

"I don't know what to do," he admitted. Everyone gasped. Perry laughed and scrubbed one hand over his face, groaning. "Director Renfro says the area is contaminated with a disease spread by rodents. That's probably why people are getting sick. I bet the police is trying to keep it quiet from the rest of the world by burning the evidence."

"So what are we doing here?" Max wondered. "They don't need Manticore soldiers for this."

"I wonder if we're immune," X5382 mused aloud. _Finn_, Max remembered. _That's Finn. He never had seizures like the rest of us._ "Or if we're not, maybe they want us to become carriers of the disease so they can come up with a vaccine back at Manticore. Kind of risky, though."

"Our orders are to burn both sectors to the ground and return to Manticore immediately," Perry repeated. Then he scoffed, and sounded sarcastic for the first time in his life. "We are not to ask questions."

"I have a question," Max challenged him. "Why does this feel like a coverup?"

"Because it is," came a voice.

The Phoenix Division turned as one to face the intruder who had managed to sneak by their guards and enter headquarters undetected. Everyone drew a weapon on him at the same time, furious with themselves for not noticing someone sneaking in, especially since the intruder was in a wheelchair and had a press pass clipped to his jacket. Max forced herself to keep her Glock 9mm trained on Logan's chest. To his credit, he didn't look at her any longer than he looked at Brin, or Perry, or Finn, who stood closest to him.

"Leave now or we'll shoot," Finn said in a bored voice, his arm steady. 

"It is a cover-up," Logan stated calmly, wheeling forward despite the danger. He picked a manila folder off his lap and threw it into the dirt at Perry's feet. The rubber band holding it together snapped, making everyone jump except Max, who had forced her brain into a semi-meditative state in order to deal with the fact that Logan was only twenty feet away.

Perry picked up the folder and thumbed through the first few pages, then slammed the cover shut and handed the folder to Max. Max was relieved to have an excuse to lower her weapon and clicked the safety back on. 

"Who are you and where did you get this?" Perry demanded, crossing his arms. The rest of the X5's kept their guns pointed steadily at Logan, waiting for an order.

"Uh. Wanna call off your dogs?" Logan said nervously.

"No," Perry said, blue eyes flashing angrily. "Who are you and where did you get this?"

Logan matched him stare for stare, refusing to speak. It was an incredibly stupid and risky thing to do, and he knew it. Still, if he was going to stay alive he'd need their respect, and complying with every command was not the way to win hearts and influence soldiers from Manticore. Perry sighed.

"X5382, keep him in your sights. Everyone else, back off. Let's hear what this crip has to say."

The sound of sixteen guns being lowered and put away was music to Max's ears. Finn kept his gun calmly pointed towards Logan's heart, but one gun was better than a whole division's worth. She worked really hard to keep a bored look on her face like everyone else, but couldn't help sneaking a look at Logan. He still wore glasses, but with darker frames instead of the thin silver ones. He was clean-shaven and his hair was a little shorter, but still spiked every which-way. _Still a hot boy_. He wore a black jacket, olive cargo pants and black boots. Max hoped he'd taken her email seriously and wore a bulletproof jacket underneath his clothes or this was the last time she'd see him alive. If she threw herself into his arms and started kissing him, would Brin get suspicious again? Probably. Damn. _Keep your head in the game, Max_.

"My name is Logan Cale. I'm a journalist. Sorry to disappoint you, but I can't reveal my sources. Suffice to say, the information in that folder is legitimate. Manticore sent you on a suicide mission."

"Thanks for the intel," Perry said, and turned to Finn. "Kill him."


	4. 4

Phoenix Rising 

Phoenix Rising 

Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER: FOX owns all Dark Angel characters. No infringement implied.

Max's voice caught in her throat. Logan looked Finn in the eyes, silently challenging him to go ahead, pull the trigger. She wanted to scream "NO!" or throw herself in the line of fire. She wished everything would play in slow motion, like in the movies, but reality was quick and brutal. Finn fired one clean shot into Logan's chest and Logan jerked backwards, then slumped down a little in the wheelchair, his limbs slack. The hot scent of iron jerked Max's memory back to Eva, of how Lydecker had shot her in the same place Finn shot Logan. Straight through the heart.

"X5452, drag the body into the corner and search him for wires or other information," Perry ordered, taking the folder out of her hands. The rest of the division gathered around their C.O., awaiting information. Finn put his gun away and barely gave the body a second glance.

"Need help?" he asked as Max moved forward.

"I got it," she shrugged, as though this happened every day.

__

Sure, she thought bitterly, heart thumping so wildly she imagined everyone could see it beating. _No problem, because it's easy to see the man you love get shot in the heart, not knowing if he obeyed your order and wore the bulletproof vest. Because it's easy to pull him over your shoulder and carry the dead weight over to the dank corner of this soggy building, praying for some sign of life, any little scrap of hope to let you off the hook. Knowing that if the gamble didn't pay off, you've got blood on your hands again, like you pulled the trigger yourself._

"Logan," Max whispered, carefully laying him down on the floor. She straddled him and stared in horror at the hole in his black jacket. Her trembling fingers unzipped his jacket, untucked his shirt. "Logan." Her fingers reached the Kevlar and her eyes slid shut on a rush of hot tears. She pulled his t-shirt up, making sure the vest stopped the bullet—it had, renting the material. Max unbuckled the straps and yanked the vest off, needing to see, needing to know he was safe. She passed her hand over the unharmed flesh of his chest, pressing down gently on his heart. _Right here_, she thought. _This is where you love me, if you still do_.

"This isn't how you undress me in my fantasies," Logan whispered.

Max dropped her palms down on either side of his body and for the first time in a year and a half, looked into his eyes. She'd imagined this moment a thousand different ways. Sometimes it was him that rescued her, sweeping her up in his arms and declaring eternal love. There were many versions of that fantasy. But on the days when she returned to her cot, skin bleeding, muscles screaming, she tortured herself with visions of Logan rejecting her. Yelling at her. Calling her destroyer, traitor. It was a risky thing to look into someone else's eyes and not hold back your own emotion. Max had never felt so vulnerable before. _Oh please_, she prayed. _Please let him not be mad at me_. 

All she saw was love. No guilt, no accusations, no incriminations or resentment. Just love and a little humor. She felt lightheaded and wondered if she was going to throw up again. Logan just smiled.

"Got your email," he continued. She placed one finger over his lips, silencing him. 

"Shh," she whispered, giving him a tremulous smile. 

"X5452!" Perry called. 

"No wires," she called back.

"Bag him and throw him in the back of the transport truck."

"Yes, sir," Max replied. She jumped up and jogged lightly to the Rover, rifling around for a body bag. It surprised her to find a large stack of them. On a mission where Agent Hunter told them all would return, it bothered her to see someone preparing for the opposite. Logan shook his head in protest when she returned and unzipped the black leather bag in one swift motion. 

"No way," he said through gritted teeth.

"I'll leave it unzipped a little," Max promised. "I'll get you out of here, I promise. Trust me. No matter what you see, you have to trust that I'll come back to you this time."

"Max…"

"I love you," she whispered. "Now shut up and play dead."

The X5's took turns reading through the information in the folder Logan gave them. It was highly disturbing, all of it pointing fingers at Manticore and specifically, Director Renfro and the committee. The pages got passed around until everyone had a chance to read every word, every pie chart, every phone transcript. 

The most disturbing piece of intelligence was a copy of an order received the day before they were sent to Seattle. It ordered the military genetics projects to be completely terminated, all evidence burned. The government was making budget cuts, the paper explained, and wanted to focus solely on disease control, not warfare options. No one was at war with the US anyway. 

Perry felt like he was on a flight simulation exercise and no one would let him off. Everything in his brain felt turned upside down and he didn't know what to believe. Of all his shocked soldiers, only Max and Brin didn't look surprised. Maybe it was because they'd been on the outside. Despite the reprogramming, maybe they really did remember what it was like when Manticore was the enemy, when all they knew was running scared and looking over their shoulders all the time. Maybe they knew what this felt like and how to deal with it, because he sure as hell didn't.

"They're really killing their own people in this city," he said bitterly. "They're using us to cover it up. Hoping we'll die in the fire. Hoping we get sick and die long, horrible, gruesome deaths rather than let us come back to Manticore. They don't want us back, because they're going to get shut down and we'd be terminated anyway, since we're nothing more than projects. Projects."

"Guess they didn't count on that Eyes Only guy spilling the beans about the water supply," Brin said. "Is that how Manticore thought we'd all die?"

"That or these frickin' rats," Finn said, kicking one clear across the room with his boot. 

"I counted nineteen body bags in the Range Rover," Max reported. "Eighteen now." 

"Great," Perry said. "I don't know. I just don't know."

"Okay," Finn said. "Recap. We have civilians being incinerated in South Market. How do we know who else is contaminated and who isn't? Can we get the healthy ones out before we torch the place?"

"And when _our_ dental records don't show up in the ashes, what then? I don't want to spend the rest of my life running from Manticore. Again," Brin stated firmly. 

"Been there, done that," Max agreed, her heart soaring. They were staring to come around, they were seeing the evil she saw every day, they were trying to grasp it, trying to wrap their high minds around the fact that their little home-sweet-hellhole was little more than a prison. For one sweet moment she imagined a real X5 reunion, complete with Krit and Syl and everyone else still on the outside. Perry would man the grill, Finn and Zane would be in charge of obtaining illegal fireworks, Jondy would insist everyone have matching cups and plates…

"We have to die in that fire," Perry said thoughtfully, his eyes turning to Max. "We, with barcodes and dog tags intact, have to die in that fire."

*****

Original Cindy was no man's maid. 

"Unbelievable," she said for the hundredth time, as she pulled open another drawer and wondered how a man so obsessively organized about his computer files could be such a slob when it came to his personal effects. Maybe she should switch jobs with Bling and pack up the computer stuff. She couldn't tell a cable from a wire, but it had to be easier than this. Logan hated clutter, instead cramming as much stuff into his drawers as possible. Cindy was under instructions to pack one suitcase full of clothing and the other full of the list of kitchen items he'd given her. The man had twenty different belts to choose from, but got specific about which wineglasses he wanted her to wrap up? Insanity.

"How's it going in here?" Bling asked with an amused voice. "Finding everything okay?"

"Homeboy's in big trouble when I get my hands on him," Cindy promised. "You'd think someone as anal as Logan would be organized everywhere, but I can't find anything."

Bling laughed.

"Yeah, the bedroom is pretty bad," he agreed. "Wanna switch for awhile?"

"No, I'm gonna beat this bitch. How's your end of things?"

"Got the gear crated up, ready to go. I hope his contact in Portland can get the house ready in time. I don't think Logan can handle being homeless."

Cindy laughed, glad that Bling was being so cheerful. Packing up someone's life and moving it for them was not an easy task. Yet Logan hadn't even cared when Cindy pointed out they'd probably need to leave Seattle if Max managed to escape. He'd just picked up the phone and made a deal with a guy in Portland, switching his penthouse for this man's house on the water. She could hear the man's "Really?! Yes!" loud and clear, as Logan pulled the earpiece away from his ear. Evidently, the guy had been after Logan to make the switch for awhile. "You'll love country living" the man promised. 

Now they were packing up everything that could fit in Logan's beat-up old Aztek and the trailer attached to the back. Room for essentials, not luxuries. Cindy looked around at all the art still on the walls, wondering if Logan would miss it. It was no secret his financial situation wasn't as plush as it used to be, but this place was his sanctuary. It made her feel a thousand times better that he would pick up and move at a moment's notice just to keep Max safe; he really loved her, and Cindy wouldn't allow anything less.

"I'll move on to the kitchen," Bling said, leaving Cindy to her task. She sighed and dumped the contents of an entire drawer on the floor, making him laugh.

"Gonna do this the hard way," she muttered, kneeling on the floor to sort through the tangle of underwear and t-shirts.

*****

Inside the body bag, Logan closed his eyes and thought about Max.

Her hair was past her shoulders now, dark with red highlights, the length pulling out most of the curl. She was dressed like everyone else in standard combat gear, weapons strapped around her waist. A thin scar ran from her earlobe all the way down her throat, like she'd been sliced open. He'd noticed the start of another scar at the base of her throat and knew that was where they'd cracked her chest. They would have had to do that to restart her heart—he'd seen the damage the bullet had wreaked on her body. It was a miracle she survived and he couldn't wait to hear the entire tale. He didn't care how many scars covered her body—she was still the singularly most beautiful woman he knew.

It struck him, finally, that she'd had to spend the past year and a half inside Manticore, living a lie. She'd had to prove herself. Probably killed to prove her worth to the team and make everyone believe she was completely reprogrammed. That moment when she realized he was alive…was that fear _for_ him or _of_ him? Well, first things first. He needed to get them both out of here for good. They could sort everything out in Portland.

He'd been to Bennett's house once. It was a four-bedroom shingled cape, the kind that got looted and abandoned after the pulse because no one had the kind of jobs to afford houses like that anymore. There was a large backyard, a boat launch and dock and a white picket fence out front with graffiti only on the outside. Bennett and Marianne wanted to move to Seattle and told Logan that he could say the word and they could switch places. There was even a job waiting for him in Portland, working for a private computer security company. He could still keep up on the informant net in his spare time; Portland had plenty of crime and rough characters screwing things up. Eyes Only wouldn't have to die and Max could stop running. They could even have house guests in the extra bedrooms if her brothers and sisters wanted to visit.

Logan stopped fantasizing and moved his nose towards the hole at the top of the zipper, praying for Max to hurry. He was getting claustrophobic. It wasn't much fun playing dead.


	5. 5

Phoenix Rising

Phoenix Rising

Chapter 5

DISCLAIMER: FOX owns all Dark Angel characters. No infringement implied.

The fire was out of control.

Logan watched the flames burn from his safe location, the roof of a boarded-up hotel just outside Sector seven. As far as he could see, surfaces glared orange from the reflection of the blaze, like the sunset had bled onto the city. The squealing of rats was audible even from his perch. They headed in droves to the waterfront and Logan realized with a sickening thud in his heart that soon all of Seattle would be facing the same disease. Was that Trager's original intent? To decimate an entire city's worth of people? Or was it his plan to merely euthanize the downtrodden? It wouldn't take long before people realized Seattle was a deadly place to live and tried to get out while they were still healthy. Real estate would be dirt cheap and Logan knew that the government would swoop in and buy up locations for a song, then produce the miracle cure to kill the rats and purify the water. Meanwhile, millions of people would be exiled, starving, homeless refugees. They'd land on their feet, pour into places like Portland or LA, maybe slip over the border and end up in Vancouver, but it wouldn't be home. Lucky for Logan, his contact in Portland was unfazed by the potential outbreak. Danny was an entrepreneur and would make a bundle off the misery of others, gleefully using Logan's penthouse as a base of operations. Logan, meanwhile, would be taking up residence in a sweet little neighborhood just outside Portland, commuting a mere half hour to his new job in private computer security. With any luck, Max would agree to live with him. Danny's house had four bedrooms and an apartment in the boathouse, plenty of floor space and storage. They could always have her siblings visit. Granted, not the whole division, but there was definitely room for a volleyball net in the backyard. 

Logan shook his head. It was unconscionable of him to be planning X5 reunions while Max was down in the trenches, fighting the war. Hundreds of innocent people would die tonight in the fire he helped create. Hospitals would be full to overflowing. Thousands more would be threatened with hunger and illness after the flames receded, if they ever got under control. Sure, the whole city could burn to the ground, the Space Needle could topple over from the heat, the forest could catch fire and start a national disaster. 

Logan just wanted to get Max out alive.

And Bling, and Original Cindy and anyone they cared about, and as many of Max's siblings as cared to ditch Manticore. It was selfish, pure and simple selfishness that grated against the compassion Logan usually toted around like a merit badge. The fire was too grand to make him really care, though. The cinders in the air were from paper, trash, wood, sure, but also human flesh. He couldn't save everyone. Not this time.

They got a good head start, though.

Eyes Only, once he got out of the body bag and back to the public, used his cell phone to mobilize the hospitals. They rallied and invaded the barricades, quickly setting up triage and putting a stop to the torture and the incinerating. People were divided into two lines, healthy and sick. The sick were taken to shelters to die with pain-free dignity and the healthy ones were let out into the city to find other places to stay. It wasn't perfect, but it sent the Sector Police on their ears. No one knew who was in charge. It was easy for a small division of young soldiers to start lighting fires everywhere, starting what would soon turn into an unstoppable, raging inferno. 

Nobody thought the fire would take so quickly, but rainy Seattle still burned. It smelled like burning rubber and wet dog. And other things Logan would not care to dwell on. Max told him not to worry, that she and the other X5s would get out of there before buildings started collapsing and trapping people, but he didn't believe her. Mission or not, Max and her siblings wouldn't abandon helpless people to save their own hides. Yet he waited patiently, ready with pure water, blankets, clean clothing, money, sector passes, food, and plenty of contacts in neighboring cities willing to take in young houseguests for awhile. He couldn't be down on the ground, fighting alongside Max so he went to the high place and prayed for the fire to consume everything and leave no trace of the hideous secrets kept behind the barricades. 

He waited alone. Bling and Original Cindy were driving the Aztek to Portland and planned to stay there. Bling's wife was going to meet him there, confident he'd find a new PT job. Logan, who had ferreted out the escaped X5's though Krit and Syl over the past year and a half, contacted Jondy and found a place for Cindy to crash. There was even a lead on a job for her, tending bar near Jondy's self-defense studio. All Max had to do was show up, alive, unharmed, willing to leave the city, and they'd be one big happy urban family. 

"X5736, reporting in," came a weak voice. Logan whirled around and saw a thin Asian girl with a long braid, her face smudged with soot. He immediately grabbed a blanket and met her halfway, wrapping it around her shoulders and leading her to the shelter he'd rigged. She gratefully accepted the cup of water he gave her and made him refill it three times before she was satisfied.

"You okay?" Logan asked, watching her realize who he was.

"You're the dead guy in the wheelchair," Brin blurted out. "And you're walking."

"Electronics," Logan explained, raising his pant leg and showing her the exoskeleton. "And a bulletproof vest."

"X5452 betrayed us," Brin said, scandalized. Then she got mad. "I knew it!"

"Settle down, little sister," Finn said, climbing over the side of the building and jogging towards them. His face was almost completely black, his hair wet and greasy. "If she hadn't, we'd be on our way back to execution right now." This logic made sense to Brin and Finn turned to Logan, extending a grimy hand. "Hey man, sorry I shot you. Where's the chair?"

"He's got an external walking device probably powered by servo motors," Brin chimed in. 

Finn put his hands on his hips and nodded his head. "Spinal cord damage?"

"It was two years ago," Logan said matter-of-factly. "There's nothing they can do now."

"Where?" Brin asked, pouring Finn a cup of water. They both drew closer to Logan, who sighed. It was easy to provide material things, a little harder to provide a distraction for soldiers who probably needed to block firey horrors out of their perfect memories.

"Below the eighth thoracic vertebra. Six months after the accident I had some progress with an X5 blood transfusion, but my body ultimately rejected the stem cells and put me back in the chair. The exoskeleton works well enough, and I'm used to the chair."

"I bet X5452 could reengineer the spinal cord," Brin said to Finn, who nodded in agreement. 

"You're completely without feeling below the waist?" Finn asked, reaching for a blanket. "Huh. Can you achieve and/or sustain an erection? Hey, don't look at me like that. In a lot of paralysis cases the brain is somehow able to overcome that little obstacle and if it's true in your case, then your chances for success with genome experimentation is very good."

"Works just fine," Logan said, gritting his teeth. The two X5s talked to each other for a few minutes, tossing around words like 'neuropeptide' and 'physiotherapy.' "X5452," Logan interrupted them. "Otherwise known as Max? She's not a scientist."

"She is now," Brin reported proudly. "As part of her reentry into Manticore they reengineered her brain to adapt with the forward thinking present in the X7 series. She was able to quickly pick up where the other geneticists left off, designing and producing lots of things, like getting rid of our seizure problem for good. Come to think of it, she mentioned something about researching paralytic cases. I thought it was meant for warfare, not for medical advancement, but it was probably for you. She was the one who transfused you that blood you said worked at first, wasn't she?"

"Yeah. She was."

"Well," Finn said cheerfully, "We get out of Seattle, I'm sure she can help you. 'Course, she'll have to rebuild the lab, but I'm sure that won't be a problem. X54… Maxie loves that genetic stuff. I bet it's killing her to sacrifice the X7s right now."

"What?!" Logan asked, but then Perry showed up and three more X5s came after him. Soon the rooftop was filled with the young soldiers, wrapped in blankets and helping themselves to the food and clothes. Logan stayed busy, distributing supplies and trying to encourage culture-shocked young people. Yes, the world is a bitch. Yes, Manticore wanted you all dead. Yes, you'll be fine.

Logan was going crazy waiting for Max to show. To take the edge off he cornered Finn and pressed him for information. 

"What do you mean, Max is sacrificing the X7s?"

"She didn't tell you?" Finn wondered.

"She let me out of the body bag and told me to start a war," Logan told him. "I immediately got on the phone to the hospitals and she ran off to join the rest of the division. The next time I saw her she instructed me to set up camp up here, away from the fire, with plenty of supplies. She didn't have time to explain and I figured I would see her afterwards… what?"

Finn, underneath the dirt smudging his face, went very pale.

"She didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what? _Tell me what_?!"

"Turns out she and a lab tech at base, Victor, have been doing secret experiments on the X7s. They're approaching puberty, which is a volatile time for transgenic kids, so it was easy to get permission to try some new things. Evidently she figured out a way to speed up the aging process and before we left Manticore to come here, she turned the whole troop of X7s into twenty year old soldiers, just like us. She cut out their high brain function, though, which left them unable to perform at the ability of a Manticore solider. Max made those kids normal—well, normal and ten years older. Renfro would have killed her if she found out, so she and Victor stashed the kids away. I don't think Max ever had any intention of going back after this mission to face the music."

"So, where are the X7s now?" Logan asked, knowing he was going to hate the answer.

"Victor drove the truckload of them into Seattle tonight. It was creepy seeing them, man, they look just like us. Clones, y'know, typical Manticore nightmare fodder. We switched dog tags and gave them orders to go down with the ship. As it were."

"So you basically murdered them."

"Basically," Finn said. "Got any more coffee?"

"You just sent twenty kids to their death in cold blood, and all you can think about is coffee?" Logan forced himself not to yell, but the blank look on Finn's face was infuriating. 

"You ever killed anyone?" Finn asked conversationally.

"Yeah."

"Self defense, right? Kill or be killed?"

"Yeah."

"Well, maybe this will help you sleep at night: we're too smart, too advanced to be allowed to live. Most of us know too much about what really goes on inside Manticore. We're a liability they can't afford. You were the one who gave us that folder. You know what they were planning. I'm surprised they didn't just kill the lot of us before the mission. But this way, they have a nice story to tell the people holding the moneybags. 'Oh, we tragically lost all our field ops.' If they searched that rubble, which you know they'll do, especially Director Renfro, and don't find our dog tags, they'll hunt us down like animals and kill us slowly and painfully. Sending the X7s in our place was a choice to survive. You take the moral high road and do the martyr thing, you get killed. So don't stand there and call me a psychopath, when you know full well you'd do anything to have Maxie come back alive."

Logan backed way down. Finn was right. No easy answers. One easy question, though…

Where was Max?


	6. 6

Phoenix Rising

Phoenix Rising

Chapter 6

DISCLAIMER: FOX owns all Dark Angel characters. No infringement implied.

A/N: Aquila is right! Big ol' mistake. Disregard any mention of a "Bennett"; Logan's contact in Portland is named "Danny."

Dawn was gray the morning after the fire and no one noticed. The sky gradually lightened, but the blaze had grown so high that most of the city had been lit up since around three in the morning. Perry stood with Logan overlooking the city, waiting and watching for any sign of Max. The two men stood in anxious silence, neither one wanting to voice their terror at what was keeping her from the rendezvous point. 

Finn and some of the other X5s went back down into the blazing inferno of Sector three to find her, but came back less than an hour later, with reports of blocked roads and mobs of people in the streets. Finn reasoned that if Max was going to make it to the top of the hotel building she'd do it herself, without any help…or she wouldn't do it at all. Logan almost broke down then, but managed to keep his cool as Perry started shouting out directions for the division to split up into pairs and try to get out of the city. 

At dawn, the only ones left waiting were Finn, Perry, Brin and Logan. Brin clutched a few pieces of clean, dry clothing on her lap, waiting for her sister to get back and change into them. No one wanted to voice their greatest fear, that Max was dead, or worse—trapped in a burning building somewhere. Instead they sat in silence, watching, waiting, breathing soot-filled air and praying that the last X5 would make it back alive.

Logan numbly stared towards the fire, unable to comprehend the fact that Max had long since passed the deadline for the checkpoint meeting. Images that he'd thought deeply buried came back to taunt him—holding Max in the woods, feeling her hot blood run over his hands, listening to her last words and last breath and then waking up with a killer headache, arms empty. Logan didn't want a repeat performance of the woods near Manticore. He wanted a happy ending, and with each passing second he doubted that would happen. He'd seen her for mere moments the past day. Not long enough to talk, to comfort, to hold her so tightly she couldn't move. It was all business, all saving the world and trying not to die. Typical fate, denying him even the tiniest bit of peace.

"We should have had a contingency plan," Perry muttered, not for the first time. "Should have had a second meeting place, in case she couldn't make it here."

"What if she's just wounded and it's taking longer?" Finn tried to make his voice optimistic, but fell flat when Logan glared at him. Finn flinched, not prepared for the barely contained grief and fury in the other man's eyes. "You're the reason she betrayed her family," Finn said to Logan, looking to pick a fight. Perry and Brin didn't stop him. "She dies, it's on your head."

"I know it," Logan said calmly. 

"She doesn't make it back, I'll kill you," Finn threatened.

"Go ahead."

Checkmate. 

Perry walked away from the staring contest, over towards the small shelter Logan had rigged. There was hardly any food left, and barely any water. Just two backpacks worth of supplies to be split between the four of them, or, the three of them if Finn managed to kill Logan. Despite the stress of Max gone missing, Perry was more concerned about Director Renfro. She'd find the dog tags in the rubble, try to identify the corpses by dental records…would she guess that the missing X7s were really the missing X5s? Logan had promised that Manticore's human genetics projects were being shut down, but what if it ever got funding again? Would that peroxide blonde bitch be back in the driver's seat, ready to hunt them down like animals again? He didn't want to run anymore, and maybe Max didn't either. Maybe that's why she stayed in Sector three. Death was better than running. 

"Ohmygod," Brin exclaimed, her words running together with excitement Perry had never ever heard from the even-keeled soldier. "Look! Look, down there."

Perry ran to the edge of the building with the others and peered down to where Brin was pointing at a slow-moving figure hugging the side of a building across the street. She moved with excruciating slowness, dragging one leg behind her. Her head was down as she concentrated on each painful step. 

"That's Maxie," Finn said with relief, shooting Logan a guilty glance. 

"Go get her," Logan said kindly. "I'll meet you in the lobby. No need to drag her all the way up here."

Max leaned her left shoulder against the wall and looked up to the roof of the hotel building, hoping that someone had waited. She counted three, no, four shadows up on the roof, and they appeared to be cheering and hugging each other. Seconds later they'd all vanished and she was left alone to wonder. But it was them, it had to be them. Or at least Logan. He wouldn't let her down now, not after knowing she was alive and still loved him. She'd said that, right? When he was lying in the dirt with the rats after Finn shot him? She couldn't remember. Taking a deep breath, Max coughed and shuffled her left foot forward, using both hands to carefully drag her right leg along. The screaming pain in her hip made her dizzy and she stopped, leaned against the wall again until the pain subsided into a dull ache. A trickle of blood from her still-bleeding head wound tickled her skin as it coursed down her face and she wiped it away with her sodden sleeve. Then she pushed off the wall, took a half step, and dragged her right leg forward again. Move. Pain. Rest. Repeat. 

"Maxie!" Perry yelled out. Max lifted her head again, her heart constricting with bittersweet pain. He hadn't used her name since she was nine. God, he sounded so much like Zack…

Finn was the first to reach her and she collapsed gratefully in his capable arms. He lowered her to the ground, hands immediately pulling her hair away from her face to examine the wound above her temple. As he pressed a semi-clean cloth to the wound, Max saw Brin and Perry reach her. Brin looked like she was going to cry and Perry was crying, though totally unaware of it as he threaded his fingers with hers.

"Where are you hurt?" Brin asked, taking Max's other hand. 

"My head," Max said in a raspy voice. "Still bleeding."

"Got that," Finn said, granting her one of his winning smiles. "What else, little sister?"

"Dislocated my hip. And twisted the ankle on the other side. Hurts."

"Okay, let's get her inside," Perry said. "Just relax, Maxie, you're safe."

Max nodded, clenching her teeth to keep from crying out when they lifted her. It was a slow procession to the lobby of the hotel, as they didn't want to jar her any more than necessary. The lobby was quiet and smoke-free, which is more than Max could say about the streets. She let her head rest against the cushion of the couch they laid her on, closing her eyes for the first time in hours. It was weird to lose the sense of sight and just focus on touch; someone was smoothing her hair back, picking out shards of glass and wood splinters. Someone else was undressing her with incredible gentleness while other hands unlaced her boots and slipped them off. She heard the pull of clothing as it left her body, heard the quiet murmurs of her siblings as they debated the best way to relocate her hip joint, heard the unmistakable whir of the servomotors in Logan's exoskeleton. So he was here after all. Max kept her eyes closed, wondering which hands were his. It hardly mattered, but she wasn't ready to open her eyes yet. She knew by the sharp intakes of breath that they'd discovered her many bumps and bruises, knew she looked like death warmed over. Literally, with the fire being as hot as it was in Sector three. 

"Max," Logan said, near her head. Max nodded but refused to open her eyes. Her eyelids felt swollen now, her eyes dry and itchy. "We're going to stitch up your scalp and relocate your hip." He took her hands, moving one to the back of the couch and curling her other arm around his own waist. "Hip first. Hang on."

Max felt firm hands on her bare leg, turning her, then pulling so fiercely she felt like she was on fire. She screamed, arching her torso to try and buck them off but the hands held her down, lifting her leg, applying counter-pressure until it popped back in place with an audible crunch. After that the stitches were nothing, and she barely even felt them wrapping her ankle. Someone held up a cup to her parched lips and she opened her eyes for the first time in what seemed like hours, grasping the cup with both hands and drinking it like a greedy child, her eyes never leaving the bottom of the cup. 

"More?" Logan asked, even as he refilled the cup and she drank again and again. Brin was there too, helping her into a t-shirt and loose cargo pants that probably belonged to Logan. They all looked like they were wearing some variation on his closet, actually; Perry was even wearing her favorite gray turtleneck. Happy to remember Logan's wardrobe, Max smiled and stretched her arms, drew her knees up to her chest and back down again. The pain in her hip was now just a dull ache.

"Feel up to a little field trip?" Finn asked, taping a final piece of gauze to her temple. "Your boyfriend's the sector pass fairy."

"Not sure how I feel about the fairy metaphor," Logan joked, "but it's true. Brin, Finn and Perry are scheduled to meet up with Krit and Syl in Chicago while you and I go to Portland. Uh, if that's okay with you."

"Fine with me," Max said, pulling herself up on the couch. "Kinda jealous, though, how come they get a reunion and I don't?"

"Did I mention that Jondy and Original Cindy are in Portland?" 

If Max was the squealing type, she would have done it just then. Instead, she smiled and chuckled a little. 

"We gotta get out of here," Perry said urgently. "Now."

"But—" Max protested, looking longingly at Brin. There was so much she had to say, to apologize, to explain. The other girl shrugged and rolled her eyes at Perry, who was busy checking the backpacks for departure.

"Don't worry, Maxie, we know where you live. Big ol' X5 reunion this summer at your new place," Finn promised. "Independence Day weekend we'll be invading your picket fence for sure."

"We have a picket fence?" Max asked Logan incredulously.

"Well, it's covered with graffiti…"

Hugs were shared all around, eyes suspiciously wet, until Max and Logan were alone in the cavernous lobby with nothing but ghosts between them.

"I'm aware it's incredibly presumptuous for me to announce you're going to live with me," Logan said nervously. Max was standing now, stretching sore muscles. She picked her head up and gave him a saucy grin, loving his discomfort.

"Incredibly," she agreed. "Logan Cale, I'm surprised you're giving up the good life to live in a shack in the country with an escaped government genetics failure. Gave all your clothes to the poor and everything."

"Not all of them. Bling and Cindy went ahead with a trailer full of stuff I couldn't bear to give up. I knew your brothers and sisters couldn't leave Seattle if they looked military, so I just shared the wealth a little. And you're not a genetics failure."

"Whatever. So, how we gonna skip this hellhole?"

"Mmm," Logan said, his blue eyes twinkling. "Your hip feeling okay to drive?"

"Drive what?" Max asked suspiciously. Logan looked very pleased with himself as he walked over to a sheet-covered lump by the old registration desk. He whipped the sheet off with a flourish, revealing…

"My baby!" Max cried, running over to her old Ninja. She ran her hands all over it, checking the pipes, peering underneath, looking for damage or wear. "Oh, sweetie, I missed you! Are you okay?"

"I'm jealous of a motorcycle," Logan muttered good-naturedly. "New carburetor," he added when Max looked to him for explanation. "Full tank of gas. If we leave now, we can make it to Oregon by lunchtime, barring roadblocks."

"Not a problem," Max said, reverently rubbing the leather seat. She hunched over the mirror and moaned in dismay at her reflection. "God, I looked better when I was bleeding from the eyeballs."

"You're beautiful," Logan corrected gruffly. "Ready to go home?"

"Home," Max repeated, the word tasting strange on her lips. She frowned, biting her lower lip as she considered that word. Home was Manticore for awhile. Then home was that apartment she shared with Kendra, then Original Cindy, and then home was Manticore again. She never really belonged in any of those places, especially Manticore. No one loved her there. No one there cared about the people she loved. No one called her beautiful and looked at her like she was more precious than a lifetime's worth of class one sector passes.

"Max?"

"I am home," she said quietly, moving closer to him, taking his hands and drawing them around her waist. She cupped his face, his five o'clock shadow tickling her palms. He smelled like fire smoke and sweat, felt like solid warmth and comfort as he pulled her close and memorized her features with his eyes. "You are home to me, Logan."

When he kissed her, Max was sure the sun came out.


End file.
